The Mystery at Baskerville Hall
by Lollipop456
Summary: When Doctor Watson and Sherlock Holmes receive word that the daughter of Sir Henry Baskerville and Lady Alice Baskerville has been taken, they decide to investigate straightaway. With more secrets hidden at Baskerville Hall and time running out; the guilt that weighs heavily on Sir Henry's mind might put his life at stake, in addition to the kidnapped Ophelia's.


_December 11th, 1896-London, England_

The sharp, cold breeze from the winter weather had made walking the streets of London or riding in a carriage, practically unbearable. It was for this reason that Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson had chosen to remain in their little apartment at 221B Baker Street.

Holmes stood by the fireplace, leaning against the mantle, and blowing on his pipe. While Doctor Watson was content as he read the pages of _The Times. _ Although he would not admit it, there was a reason, other than passing his time, for Doctor Watson to read the paper. Holmes hadn't had a case in weeks, and Watson hoped in secret that _The Times _would provide helpful.

"It's no use, Doctor." Holmes said.

Watson looked up from his paper. "What do you mean?"

Holmes turned to Watson. "By now, you should not mistaken me for a simpleton. I know well of your intentions, and I can assure you that any mystery printed in papers is better handled by Scotland Yard. I find no pleasure in having my name written all over England's newspapers. Any case that I see fit shall not have any details leaked to our country's media."

Watson didn't argue with Holmes. He realized that, though he would never say it, Holmes was scared. It'd only been two years since Holmes had resurfaced after having been thought to be a victim of murder at Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland. If any of Professor Moriarty's associates were to receive word of Holmes' exploits, then they would surely realize that he was alive & well. After having encountered one such acquaintance of Moriarty's named Colonel Sebastian Moran, Holmes was not willing to risk his life again, especially if Moran had been speaking to his friends in prison.

"I'm sorry, Holmes. I shouldn't have even-"

Holmes shook his head and held up his hand. "No apologies. You have my well-being at heart. That's something that I would ask of any friend."

At that moment, there was a clanking sound. Holmes and Watson looked towards the door and saw an envelope had been pushed through its mail slot. Holmes picked up the envelope and seemed surprised by what it said.

"What is it, Holmes?" Watson asked.

"This is from Baskerville Hall." Holmes said, not looking up.

Watson could understand his friend's surprise because he was stunned as well. It had been seven years since the mystery of the death of Sir Charles Baskerville had been solved. During the course of the investigation, Watson and Holmes had become acquainted with Sir Charles' nephew, Sir Henry Baskerville, who had come to live at Baskerville Hall after being abroad in Canada for sometime. Holmes was able to deduce that a man named John Stapleton was actually another one of Sir Charles' nephews, having been the son of one of his brothers. Stapleton had changed from Baskerville to Stapleton and tried to kill Sir Henry that he would inherit the manor. This murder attempt was thwarted by Holmes, Watson, and a one Doctor Mortimer.

It was rare indeed for a former client to contact Holmes, and especially when it had been years since they had spoken. Both Watson and Holmes knew something had to have happened, there was no other explanation. On the envelope there was an unfamiliar name: Lady Alice Baskerville.

"Alice Baskerville? Who is she?"

"My dear Watson, can't you see? She's Sir Henry's wife. The ol' man couldn't remain a bachelor."

Holmes tore open the envelope and took out a piece of paper. Together, he and Watson read its contents.

_Dear Mr. Holmes, _

_My name is Lady Alice Baskerville. I write this letter on behalf of my husband and myself. He often told me how you solved the murder of Uncle Charles and saved his life from a crazed creature. For that, I thank you and your colleague, Doctor John Watson. _

_I wish that this letter was for the sole purpose of expressing my gratitude. It isn't. Five months ago, Henry and I were blessed with a beautiful daughter named Ophelia. A week ago, Henry had taken Ophelia to the park. He tells me that a person, clothed in black, came dashing up to him and knocked him unconscious. When he came to, Ophelia was not with him. Her stroller was empty, with the exception of a notice. It told us that no one in Scotland Yard shall know, or else Ophelia would be killed. _

_We are both distraught and are at loss as how to find our baby. That is the reason why I've written to you. I'm certain, if he were able, Henry would have sent this letter himself. I fear my husband blames himself for Ophelia's kidnapping; he hardly speaks, eats only when I force him, and locks himself in his study for hours. Please come and find our daughter, Mr. Holmes. Please. _

_Sincerely, _

_A.B _

"A child, Holmes. If someone had ever taken little John or Mary from me...We must find her, Holmes."

Holmes nodded. "We shall leave for Devon immediately, Watson. I fear that not only the life of little Ophelia is at stake, but the mentality of our acquaintance."


End file.
